


Waking up at the start of the end of the world

by orphan_account



Series: comfortember [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bruce Wayne loves his kids very much, Bruce was pretty damn traumatized by jason's death, Gen, Referenced Gore, Stephanie included though their start was pretty rocky, bruce dreams of bad things, everyone’s fine though, his kids love Bruce back, please take care of yourself, please tell me if it is, referenced character death, so warning if that can cause you dysphoria, stephanie and jason kinda merge into one?, though i do not think it is enough to warrant an archive warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27367681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bruce has a nightmare. Thankfully, or maybe not, he doesn’t have to suffer through it alone.Or: Steph ain’t having none of that.For comfortember day 3: Nightmare
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne
Series: comfortember [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995100
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Waking up at the start of the end of the world

**Author's Note:**

> Is there a plot to this? No. Is it super short? Yes. but was it fun to write? also yes
> 
> Bruce: intense film noir inner monologue  
> Steph: chirp chirp motherfucker
> 
> As usual, I own nothing! enjoy!

He’s been here a thousand times.

It always starts the same way. He’s alone in that alley, the shot, the explosion, still ringing loudly in his ears.

It always starts the same way. He falls to his knees in a still wet puddle of blood, gasping, trying to get air in lungs that don’t work anymore. He’s almost scared to look down, to see who he’s failed this time. It usually starts with his parents, Crime Alley, a cold night. Sometimes it changes. Sometimes it will be Damian, lying there. Jason. Dick. Cass. Stephanie, tortured to death by Black Mask.

Tim, disintegrating, swallowed up by thousands of light beams, falling apart before his very eyes.

Red Hood, standing in front of a plaque, that says, Jason Todd, beloved son. The hood’s covered in dirt, and no matter what Bruce tries, no matter how hard he grips Jason’s wrist, he still crawls back in the gaping hole.

A crowbar flashes through the air. His son’s dead on the ground, he’s not moving, but it doesn’t stop there. The Alley’s oppressing walls melt into Arkham’s brighter lit padding. A gunshot deafens him, but he can still somehow hear Joker when he taunts—

“Come on, Birdboy. You’re not going to sleep on me already, are you*?”

—Jason.

There is a man, standing tall behind Joker, and somehow, everything in Bruce knows that that’s supposed to be Jason.

But it feels wrong. Jason doesn’t move like that, Jason has never found it in himself to kill Joker, he shouldn’t have to, Jason need someone to protect him from Joker, not to have to face him himself, and most importantly of all, Jason is dea—

“Chirp-chirp, motherfucker.” The guy in the red helmet says, then shoots the Joker in the head. The psychopath falls, cut off mid-laugh. Bruce thinks he’s covered in blood and gore again, he wants to get it off, but when he looks down at himself, he’s clean.

“Wow—” The guy says, taking off his helmet. Except it isn’t Jason’s familiar face, hiding behind the helmet, it’s not, Stephanie’s the one he sees. Not Jason. It’s Stephanie’s head on Jason’s body and Bruce has no clue what’s happening anymore. “— I never thought that it’d actually work. Sweet.”

She looks down at herself. There’s no blood on her, either. It’s impossible. At this range, from a headshot, she should have been splattered with brain matter at the very least.

“Gotta say, though, this is weird. Loving the muscles, but damn, I wish I could see myself right now.”

The nagging feeling that something’s very wrong intensifies.

“I wonder how anatomically accurate this is,” Steph says, peering at Jason’s biceps, and poking at their left pectoral. “Because believe me, Bruce, there are things about the Red Hood that I reaaally don’t need to know.”

This is a nightmare. He’s trapped inside a nightmare.

“Names,” he grunts and just as he says that, her body starts changing from Jason’s to hers. Bruce is relieved not to see Jason’s head appear on top of it.

She just looks like she usually does.

When he looks at his son’s corpse, it’s already disappeared.

“Hi, Bruce?”

He snaps to attention, raises his head back up. If she’s choosing to deliberately ignore his remark, then they’re safe here. Stephanie doesn’t joke around with secret identities.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Stephanie,” he answers, giving a curt nod.

“Oh, good. You do. Bad news for you, you’re tripping balls. Good news: we’re not actually in Arkham, just inside your head.” She looks around, at the grim walls, at the fire raging in the distance. “Err, let me rephrase that. Emotionally charged news, we’re inside your head. Jason’s not dead.” She pauses, again. “Maybe I should have led with that.”

“This is a nightmare,” he repeats his earlier thought, hardly daring to believe it.

She scrunches up her face, wiggling her hand in a meh motion.

“Eh, kind of? A psychic attack is J’onn best guess.”

“You’re alright.” He checks.

“I’m fine, masked man.”

He hates that nickname. It’s probably why she uses it. It’s also another sign, another reassurance that it’s really her, here with him.

“And yes,” she huffs, “They’re all fine. Scared them half to death when you went down like a sack of old saggy bricks, but they’re fine. They handled it.”

He’s going to need more proof than that. He’s going to need to see them all with his own eyes before his mind clears of the nightmare scenarios, of the memories.

But if this is his mind.

Then he’s in control. He can control this mindscape. He’s in control. He can change this world entirely through willpower.

Bruce closes his eyes, and pictures Gotham as he wants it to be.

“Woah, Cass was right,” she breathes, “you actually are an optimist.”

Bruce grunts.

Takes a moment to admire the city. Its cleaner streets that people roam around in without a care in the world. The little bookstore Jason had dreamed of owning, as a child. He drinks in the sight, lets his heart settle.

Then he takes Stephanie’s hand and wakes up.

————————

He startles awake with half a shout lodged in his throat.

It’s not the first bedside vigil Clark and Diana have been on for him, so when Bruce wakes up, they’re already there, all kind eyes and placating hands. Reassuring words. A hug Bruce tries to pretend he doesn’t need. A hug he pretends not to bask in.

From the corner of his eye, he can see Stephanie, on an adjoining cot. She’s unharmed, watching him struggle with eyes he thinks might be softer than usual.

It’s the sight of her that reassure him completely.

“Don’t look at me,” she says, “it’s not like I was going to leave you stranded in that dumpster fire.”

He shrugs Kal’s arm off his shoulders. Quickly, Kal takes a step back, always mindful, always respectful of Bruce’s limits. He’s handed a mug, full to the brim with hot liquid.

“They’re fine.” He checks again. He believes Stephanie.

He still needs Clark to check, for this. Anything could have happened. Anything at all between her coming to help him and now.

They all seem to understand.

“Don’t worry, Batman, they’re all fiiiiin-” Clark cuts himself off, head turning towards a sound only he could hear. “Jonathan Samuel Kent,” He starts again in a surprisingly stern tone of voice, enunciating each word carefully. Loudly. “You and Robin have better be back in Wayne Manor by the time Batman and I get there— ”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please take good care of yourself!


End file.
